


Truth

by TK_DuVeraun



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Drama, Flayn didn't age a day, Good friends being sad, M/M, Sylvain's an old man, Verdant Wind route, hmm, i wonder, i'm back on my bullshit, major character death a pairing but only one of them in the tags?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 12:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20527745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TK_DuVeraun/pseuds/TK_DuVeraun
Summary: (Post GD/Verdant Wind route Sylix)Rumor had it, they never met again. One day a sword resembling Felix's appeared at Margrave Gautier's door.





	Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Whenever Flayn visits, though now she goes by the name ‘Tessa,’ she tells Sylvain the rumors circulating about him. It started as a joke, once she learned he wasn’t actually a terrible womanizer, but turned into one of the few things that could bring a smile to his face with Castle Gautier full of his wife and Crest-bearing children and eventually grandchildren. 

They’re drinking almond tea, though his nose is too old and too full of the scent of blood to smell it. There are fruit tarts his son-in-law baked, dripping with noa syrup. His teeth ache after a single bite, but if Flayn, Cethleann, Tessa notices that he doesn’t finish his, she says nothing. She’s probably used to watching her friends grow old and die while she stays as fresh as the flower in her hair.

“I heard,” she says, mouth stuffed full of pastry, “that a sword appeared at your door. Battered and with the Fraldarius Crest scratched into the sheath. They say Felix is alive and wants to duel you for his territory back. That didn’t sound right to me.”

“It isn’t,” he replies. He sips his tea and doesn’t say more immediately. The guards at his door are not ceremonial. Claude and Byleth tearing down the walls around Fódlan may have made them happy, but even so many years on, assassins crossed the open border from Sreng to murder one of their oldest and most powerful supporters. They aren’t ceremonial, yet no one saw the ‘message’ appear. No one noticed it until Sylvain himself tripped over it, thankfully only breaking his heart.

Rodrigue had been the sword and shield of Faerghus, but Felix was known as little more than a wandering sword trusted by the allied nations of Fódlan and Almyra. A shield had been left at Sylvain’s door: the Aegis Shield, the Fraldarius Hero’s Relic. Rumors would say it was a sword.

Flayn doesn’t press. She doesn’t need to. Sylvain will tell her. There’s no one else he can tell and the words poison his heart and drip from his eyes like tears.

“When we were children… We promised not to die before the other.”

“Oh!” And her excitement edges on glee. “So he sent you a gift to say he remembered?”

Her happiness doesn’t hurt because nothing can cause more pain than he’s already feeling. Than he’s been feeling since the delivery. He smiles at her and it feels unnatural on his face. “Not quite. Someone found the Fraldarius shield and returned it to the territory.” In the dead of night with no witnesses. “There’s nothing more to it than that. I imagine our friend died in a fierce competition of skill, like he always planned to.”

What an easy lie.

So simple. So believable.

“That does sound like him,” Flayn says. She nibbles on another tart. “Did you send it to Garreg Mach to be interred in the Holy Tomb? There isn’t anyone left that can use it, after all.”

“I did. Our friend sent the lance back, again.” He can feel it, deep in the vault underneath the castle. The old, corrupted bones pull on his blood like a sickness.

“I’m sure there’s a good reason for that.”

“Hmm.” Sylvain puts his hands under the blanket on his lap, but no warmth comes to them. The Aegis Shield’s icy touch still hasn’t left them. Probably won’t.

The corners of Flayn’s eyes turn down with her frown. “He shouldn’t have left you.”

So she won’t let the subject drop.

“I know the truth behind it. It’s alright.”

It wasn’t. It hadn’t been for years. He’d waited, heart in his throat, empty castle, until Rodrigue informed him that Felix had abdicated and he wanted to name Sylvain his heir.

“The truth doesn’t make things better.” Flayn pouts. She brushes her white magic over him and the tears that had been threatening her fall from her eyes. “But it’s late.” Sun shines in through the window. “I’ll let you go to bed; you’re tired.”

“It was good to see you, Flayn. Give everyone my love.”

Not that there is any of his to give, but she has enough of her own to spare.

“I will. I’ll be back to see you soon.”

He doesn’t contradict her. Not because he’ll die before she can and he doesn’t want to be dramatic. Dramatic is one of the few things he still is. No, he says nothing because he’ll live a disgustingly long time, yet. Felix didn’t just break promises; he shattered them.

“I’ve done everything I can here,” Felix had said, when the war was over and Claude had fucked off back to Almyra leaving them holding the scraps of the country together. 

“I failed him,” he’d meant. “I could have done more,” his eyes said. 

Sylvain could see, could make sense of why Felix blamed himself for Dimitri’s death, ridiculous as his reasoning was. But he couldn’t fathom why he carried the older guilt, the one that erased the carefree smile from his face and took promises out of his mouth. Maybe, perhaps if Sylvain had realized earlier that Felix blamed himself for Glenn’s death, if he could have convinced him that was silly, then maybe he wouldn’t have carried Dimitri’s on his shoulders.

“I’ll see you around, Sylvain,” he’d said that day. Very carefully making his name the last word he gave him.

He’d meant, of course, “I won’t let myself fail you, too.”

Sylvain had known it was the end. He’d stared at Felix’s face and seen Miklan’s, from when they were children, from when he smilingly shoved him backward into the well. It was the first betrayal of his life, crashing into him a second time and shattering the ground beneath his feet.

He’d known it was the end.

“Yeah,” he’d said. “Yeah,” he’d repeated with the last big, true, heart-felt smile of his life. “Love you, too, Felix.”

It wasn’t a joke, but they both laughed.

Laughed and laughed because it hurt too much to cry.


End file.
